The intrepid adventures we have found ourselves on whilst tripping the light fantastic around this wonderful London town has been eye-opening. We are not nearly as rich, charming, cool, hip, shallow, deep, beautiful, intelligent, enthusiastic, shy and informed as we had previously thought. We are, frankly, pretty ordinary (don’t go getting any ideas though – we’d still place ourselves firmly above the category into which trainee solicitors fall). Anyway, with that in mind, please believe us when we tell you that our recent foray into the other-side of boredom surprised even us. Where we were once jaded and lethargic, we are re-energised and full of wonder. Perhaps there really are things we haven’t seen or done that are well worth a look?

This little journey of wonderment began at a petrol station off Kings Cross – indeed, The Filling Station at Kings Cross. We happened upon a place SO cool, not even the security guards skulking outside knew what it was – Shrimpy’s. For a place with a name so ordinary, it really was extraordinary. It’s like meeting someone amazingly cool, intelligent and attractive and their name is Susan or Martin or something. It was surprising. Actually, it was a little pretentious when the bloke welcoming guests (complete with his Vivienne Westwood jumper) got a bit snooty when we double-checked we had ventured into Shrimpy’s and not some swingers’ party.

‘Let me check’, he uttered casually, before grasping a nearby menu to look upon the name on the front. ‘Oh, yes, so it is,’ he chirped. Listen, pal, you’re the fucking gimp that sits people at tables. You can carry on all you like with your air of superiority in your designer jumpers and geek-chic glasses but at the end of the day you can be a replaced by a mildly informative sign stating ‘THIS WAY TO SEATS’ and an arrow pointing in the general direction of the tables.

At that point, the bile began to bubble up to our throats, but we chewed it back and shot Mr Westwood a friendly smile that betrayed the thoughts of making him swallow the turgid jumper in one go. We did so because the place looked brilliant – set in the refurbished petrol station (whose courtyard is protected from prying eyes with high walls), it was almost futuristic. Perhaps, when the oil runs dry and we’re either back to horses or in trash-powered cars, all the petrol stations will be replaced by things daubed largely in white on the outside and refurbished to a high degree on the inside.

The servers were a bit quirky weird – well ours was. She had a curious mash of cultural make up all on one face and a slightly awkward Emo Phillips (when he was young) look. That, however, didn’t detract from her excellent knowledge of the dishes and the wine. The food was basically ‘South American’ (at least it was to our sheltered tastes). We kicked off with a great Peruvian Ceviche and followed it up with their famous soft-shell crab burger. The ceviche was fresh and sharp – excellently prepared and a cacophony of flavours to ensure you’re clean and ready for the main event. The burger (well it’s a deep-fried soft-shell crab between two buns) was actually rather elegant with a great blend of sauce and salad to make sure you were eating something that was a joy. The desserts were, frankly, a bit of an afterthought by that time – we were like stuffed pigs after the crab. The bill was reassuringly priced – I suppose Mr Westwood has to fund his designer habit from somewhere – but for a 3 course meal including wine, we were happy to get away with about £65 a head. Not bad value and definitely worth a visit if you can stomach the pretentions of some.

Infinitely less pretentious (and related to something we have spoken of many a time) is the Screen on the Green. Indeed, this one-screen gem is hardly news to anyone who likes to watch movies, but perhaps their latest series of Late Night screenings. There are some gems coming up (Speed, Shaun of the Dead, Top Gun, Fight Club and Cool Runnings – yes that one). We saw The Princess Bride there recently (aka the best film ever made) and it was utterly brilliant. The opportunity to see films on the big screen that maybe you discovered late, missed entirely or just wanted to re-experience again is too good to pass up. Not just that, but the screen is brilliant (have we mentioned that somewhere on here before?) plush seats, a phat bar with exotic (well unusual if not exotic) snacking items and drinks, and sofa-service. If that wasn’t enough, the people are brilliant. They all clearly enjoy their film and their work. We always find that slightly unnerving – having been a lawyer, people that enjoy their jobs are often met with a deep suspicion, but these people are friendly and a good laugh. Well worth paying them for the pleasure of a cinematic classic.

Is this a tour de force? We’re never sure when to use that phrase. We understand that it is meant to be a brilliant feat or effort, but seeing as we have read it with reference to the BBC football punditry, we suggest that the standard is pretty low. Even so, we would struggle to suggest that chipping about a few places in London for a fry-up, film and more food would count as a tour de force. It was a bit of an effort though – not least because we had a dodgy stomach.

It was with said dodgy stomach that we ventured into hitherto foreign territory off the Edgware Road and Patogh. For the equally uninitiated, Patogh is a Persian restaurant set on Crawford Place just off the ‘exotic’ Edgware Road. The restaurant itself is crammed-full of people which is always a good sign. It’s not a very large place but every corner is used to maximum effect. Despite this, there is normally a queue outside of hungry onlookers. Don’t let that put you off though – it’s a good sign. We are big fans of Persian (Iranian) cuisine particularly the kebabs and stews. Patogh does not disappoint with a healthy selection of starters (the hummous is a must) along with freshly cooked flat breads (we got ours with garlic) and juicy kebabs (we got a chicken and lamb mix that was utterly brilliant). In short, the food was worth queuing for. It was worth cramping yourself in like a contortionist. Best of all, it was worth far more than the pittance we were required to pay at the end of the meal. That was magnificent.

After a quick turnaround we were back out on the Edgware Road, belly stuffed with stewing meats. We tottered off into the summery dusk, pleased to have finished yet another tour de force.